still waters run deep
enough to drown in.
I let it all go--my breath
my nipped-in waist,
the curl that hung in front
of only my left ear.
the water was loud,
the depths were quiet,
the cattails lobbed their
heavy heads over in the wind.
there are good days
where I look like myself.
there are bad days
where I come back confused,
claiming to be changed,
convinced that this birthmark
is just a shadow.
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